


A Woman's Charms

by orphan_account



Series: Agents and Ministers of Grace [6]
Category: Agent Carter - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picking up immediately after the end of the previous installment and prior to the events of this episode, it fills in some additional subtext in Angie and Peggy's scenes and shows a few things that may have happened in between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Woman's Charms

Peggy woke up in the middle of the night to find Angie looking at her, silhouetted in moonlight.  They lay there, face to face, and looked at each other for a long time, without saying anything.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Angie finally admonished with a tender, teasing tone.  "So I can lie here and watch you and wonder how this happened."

Peggy smiled.  "No, I think you're supposed to be sleeping.  So I can lie here and watch you and think about everything I still want to do with you."

Angie kissed her, brief and gentle.  "So you don't regret it?"

Peggy looked at her as though she'd said something absurd.  "Regret it?  No. I love... what we did tonight," she said carefully.

Reality was starting to creep into their bed, though, and Peggy felt uneasy.  She wanted Angie in a way she'd not felt in some time, but she also felt wrong about her not knowing the risks.

"You know, Peg," Angie sighed after another long, quiet moment.  "I don't... I don't get to have girls like you.  You know?  I... I'm really glad we did what we did, but I'm just ... I can feel you holding back, even now.  I'm glad I got to have your body, but...that's not all I want.  Maybe I'm just greedy, I guess."

Peggy shook her head.  "It wasn’t only that for me, either.  But … You're right, Angie.  There are things I haven't told you.  And it isn't fair to you.  But I am going to tell you.  I can't yet, but I promise I will soon."

Angie sighed.  "You ain't married, are you?"

Peggy snorted.  "No."

"And there's really nothing with Mr. Fancy?"

Peggy smiled.  "I promise, nothing with Mr. Fancy."

Angie thought for a moment.  "Well then.  Just about anything else, I can probably handle."

Peggy bit her lip, hoping it was true.  They kissed again, and soon were making love for a second time, that sleepy, middle of the night kind of lovemaking that feels like a dream.  And then they slept, and then it was morning.

 

**

 

Peggy knew Angie wasn’t entirely convinced about Jarvis; she could tell from the frosty reaction he engendered when he walked into the Automat the next day.  But she could also tell that Angie wanted to believe her, wanted to trust her.  Angie lived for the adoring looks that Peggy gave her when she was practicing her lines, in the same way that Peggy lived for the affection in Angie’s tone when she called her “English.”  When Angie was feeling deflated at her umpteenth rejection (as she was today), Peggy wanted to prop her up and tell her to keep dreaming.  When Peggy was feeling the weight of the world, Angie’s arms felt safe and gave her a moment’s peace.   Angie was the only person at the moment who didn’t want anything from Peggy but to be able to care for her, even love her.  

Love her.  She didn’t want to dwell too long on that thought.  She and Jarvis had work to do.

 

***

 

An eventful afternoon began with finding the trail of the female spy that had most likely been responsible for the theft of Howard Stark’s inventions, was punctuated with a fist fight in a diner in which Peggy knocked out five agents and put three in the hospital, and had now crescendoed with her standing on the rather dicey ledge outside the window of her apartment at the Griffith while SSR agents trashed her room and she listened to Miriam Fry shrieking about those girls from the telephone company and their scandalous ways.

She edged over to Angie’s window slowly; she wasn’t afraid of heights, per se, but much preferred this perspective if she had a parachute strapped to her back.

Angie leaned out the window.  “Peg?  What on earth are you doing?”

At that moment, she heard the SSR agents banging on Angie’s door.  “Open up!  Federal agents!”

Peggy smiled at her sadly.  “They’re looking for me.”  She was placing all her trust in Angie now.  She had no choice.  Angie assessed her for a moment, then disappeared back inside.

Peggy listened with amusement as Angie gave the agents a display of such magnitude, weeping on Agent Thompson's shoulder about her sick grandmother, until they became so uncomfortable that they excused themselves. She had to admit, it was pretty quick thinking.  Angie had the wits to know that a woman’s charms could disarm a man, but that a woman’s unchecked emotions could drive him off faster than the plague.  Angie came back and helped Peggy in off the ledge.

“Angie, you were amazing,”  Peggy exclaimed breathlessly as she climbed in the window.

“I knew you didn’t work at the phone company,” was all Angie had to say, and her eyes had a thousand questions.

A look of guilt crossed Peggy’s face.  “Of course you did.  You’re not stupid.”  She added hopefully, “But I told you last night that I was going to tell you everything soon.”

“Yeah,” Angie agreed, with nervous sarcasm, “though I’m guessing you’re in a little too much of a hurry to do that right now.”

“Unfortunately.  I have to get out of here.”  She found herself looking out of the window again, looking at the door, wondering how she’d escape undetected.

But Angie wasn’t ready to let her go yet.  “So how much of what I know about you… is really you?”

Peggy hesitated.  “I’m still the girl who loves poetry and French food and the smell of your lilac soap.  I’m still the girl who comes to the Automat for dinner nearly every day just to be near you.  I’m still the girl next door, Angie.  I’m just… something else, as well.”

Angie tried not to let on that even now, even with Federal agents crawling the building, Peggy could still make her heart melt.  “You still English?” she joked.

“As the Queen herself,” Peggy replied.  She squeezed Angie’s shoulders and kissed her hesitantly, briefly.  Angie didn’t resist her, but was still staring at her with those eyes, those eyes that pleaded for some reassurance that she hadn’t done something terrible by helping her.  “Angie, I promise you.  I haven’t done anything wrong; in fact, I’m trying to save a lot of people right now.  And ... I’m going to straighten it all out.  And then I’ll tell you everything.  But until then, it’s not safe for you to know too much.”

Angie frowned.  “You sound like Captain America or something.”

Peggy only smiled.

Angie looked at her, betraying that she was about to do something that was against her better judgment.  “Alright, Peg, I’m gonna see if I can get you outta here.  Just sit tight.  I’m gonna go make a phone call.”

While Angie was gone, Peggy found some stationery and a pen in Angie’s top dresser drawer.  She wrote a note that was more than she ought to be saying and still not half enough.. She folded it and stuffed it into the drawer with Angie’s delicates.  A moment later, Angie came rushing back into the room.  “I just got off the phone with my brother, he’s gonna drop a car off at the Dublin, it should at least get you out of town for a little while.”

Peggy let out a relieved sigh.  “Thank you, Angie”

“I also told my father to stuff secretary school, I belong on broadway,” she added, clearly pleased with herself.

There’s the spark, Peggy thought.  There’s the sweet, determined Angie she’d fallen for. “After the performance I just saw, there’s no way you should be doing anything else. You’re an amazing actress.”  

“You’re not so bad yourself,”  Angie replied, and her face became strange and sad again.  She wanted all of it; all of Peggy, all of the truth.  “I look forward to hearing what this is about someday.”

They embraced, and Peggy squeezed as hard she could, trying to print the softness of Angie’s body on her memory, dwelling in her scent and feel, and the light from the window that was catching on her loose, sandy blond curls.  

“Take care of yourself,” was all Peggy could say.  Angie looked so pretty right now that it physically hurt to walk away.

“You too, English.”

Peggy walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outside, pulling it quietly shut behind her.  She stopped.  “Bloody hell,” she muttered.

She turned around and marched back in, took Angie’s face in her hands, and kissed her with every last breath in her body.  Their tongues slid urgently into each others’ mouths and for a moment, there was nothing else.  There was only Angie’s mouth, and her pounding heartbeat, and Angie’s warm, soft hands on her cheeks.  “I’m coming back,” she whispered.

“Hurry up,” Angie whispered back.

“I’ll take you to the movies,” she promised.

“That’s what you said last time,” Angie replied.  They savored each other’s kiss for one last moment, then Angie pulled back.  “Come on, English.  Get the hell outta here before you get pinched.”

Peggy walked out, slipping down the hall quietly.  She ran into Dottie, and in trying to excuse herself as quickly as possible, she was paying more attention to the three steps ahead of her than to the woman in front of her.  As she found Dottie’s mouth pressed to hers, and felt her tongue reaching in with a kind of calculated, determined purpose, thoughts swam into her rapidly blurring head, in the following order:

_Well, this is unusual.  Dottie doesn’t seem the type. She's dreadful at it, actually._

_Please, God, don’t let Angie be watching this._

_I feel rather dizzy.  Bad dizzy.  And sick.  Bloody hell, Dottie, what are you?  Why can’t I move?_

_Oh, God, Angie.  Angie, lock your door, Angie.  Oh God, I’m going to die, and I can’t protect you, Angie, please God, let Sousa and those idiots find me right now or else I’m quite sure we are both fucked._

_I’ve been warning the SSR not to underestimate these women and I’m now fucked because I underestimated this woman._

_Ah, the Dorothy-Parker-level irony._

_Please God, Angie, stay in your room and lock the door.  Angie..._

And then everything went black.

 


End file.
